You Are My Sunshine
by Artemis Leaena
Summary: O/S - Like the song says: you are my sunshine, my only sunshine. But what if the only way for you to be happy is to take that sunshine away from everyone else? A story about love, hope, faith, and finding your happy ending ... in whatever form you can. Rated M for language.


**Disclaimer: **_The Twilight Saga _& all associated characters are the copyrighted creation & property of Stephenie Meyer. Any other publicly recognized characters, brands, quotes or "catch phrases" are the sole trademarked &/or copyrighted property of their respective creators. No copyright or trademark infringement is purposely intended with this story. The plot & any original characters of this story are the property of Artemis Leaena. This work may not be reposted, reproduced, or translated without the express permission of the author.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thank you to _**Mel/mcc101180**_, the best beta in the fandom, and the dynamic duo of pre-readers, _**caz12771**_ & _**bakergirljg24**_, for all their hard work on this little ditty.

* * *

**You Are My Sunshine**

**EPOV**

"Do you remember the last time we were here?"

Her hushed tones sounded almost reverent in their wispy quietness. The fingers of one of her slender hands was combing through my hair, the other gently stroking my jaw and cradling my head that was laying in her lap as we rested on a blanket in the middle of our special meadow. Without opening my eyes, I hummed in acknowledgement, the tiniest hint of a knowing grin crinkling the corner of my mouth.

"Of course I remember, Bella." I licked my lips and allowed the full force of the joyful memory to reshape my lips. "It was the first time we made love." I turned my head slightly so as to plant feathery kisses along the wrist and palm of the hand still resting along my face and whispered, "It was magical."

Her bell-like laughter filled the clearing, and my heart, with melodious happiness. She had been gifted with the voice, body, and soul of an angel, and I was continually in awe that she had chosen me – a lowly, insignificant, unworthy human – to shine her grace upon. I didn't think she would ever understand just how truly exquisite she was to me, and not just on the outside – although, in my mind, no woman on Earth had rivaled or would ever rival my girl for beauty – but on the inside as well.

"Magical, eh? Were gossamer-winged fairies sprinkling our naked bodies with star dust as unicorns pranced in procession around us? Did a choir of angels erupt into sweet refrains of 'Hallelujah' when we reached our climaxes?"

I didn't have to open my eyes to know she would be smirking down at me; the humor she found in my description of our physical union was woven throughout her tone. This time when her tinkling giggles echoed through the trees, my deeper guffaws took flight with them. We were corny, silly, and completely cheesy, but I loved how we were together. Nothing was ever right when we were apart.

"No choir of angels. _That_, my love, would have made it a religious experience."

"Hm …" her fingertips resumed trailing over my scalp, the soothing gesture having stopped to accommodate our moment of levity "… perhaps you're right. But if memory serves …" her voice turned husky, sultry, and lust-filled "… we were _both_ calling upon Jesus, God, and any other deity we could think of that afternoon."

A groan escaped my lips before I could bite it back at the vivid remembrances of the way it had felt to be wrapped up and tangled in Bella as we had shouted more than holy names that day – several expletives had been mixed in with our "prayers" as well. We'd been skin to skin, hard steel to soft silk. We had sunk into each other, wet, overheated flesh being teased by questing lips and humid breaths. Only the teasing caresses of the late spring breeze that afternoon had been able to cool our blazing bodies. And the way we had moved together, perfectly choreographed, had cemented for all time what we already knew to be true: we belonged together for all eternity.

Thinking I could, perhaps, convince her to let me taste, hold, and love her again as I had that day, I turned and began nuzzling the indented "Y" formed by her thighs and abdomen. Nothing had ever smelled as delectable as my Bella, and nothing ever would. She was manna from heaven, ambrosia from the gods. Her nectar was sweeter than that of any flower, and she was more intoxicating than the strongest spirit.

"Edward, stop that," she managed to say around her giggles. "You know we can't." She sighed dreamily. "Do you think we'll ever get to come back here again?" An innocent, wishful ribbon of doubt laced through and clung to her breathy, airy question.

I placed a kiss in the middle of her zipper, feeling satisfied by the trembling quiver I felt move through her, and rolled my head skyward again. I didn't want to contemplate the changes happening around us, the forces that were driving us toward a destiny from which there was no escape. It was a future that might not include romantic interludes in our secret sanctuary for quite some time – if ever again. In that moment, no answer felt like the best reply.

Bella spoke again, reading and understanding my response perfectly. I wasn't surprised by her ability to do so, her being my other half, and having been expertly crafted by the heavens just for me, as she was. "It's just that … well … everything is different now, you know? We don't know where this new life is going to take us. We have no idea what's waiting for us on the other side of the bridge we're about to cross."

My brow furrowed as I thought about what she was saying. It was true, we were clueless in the extreme about the path we were currently walking, but there was still a silver lining … wasn't there?

"It isn't all bad, though, is it?"

"No." Her smiling tone I loved so much was back.

"And we'll be together through it all, baby," I assured her resolutely and with a determined finality.

She bent until her face was hovering sideways over mine, her shadow falling across my features as her breaths fanned my rising heat. I waited expectantly – unmoving, lest the spell of anticipation be broken – for her petal soft lips to capture mine, but when they made contact, it was to ghost over my nose, instead of my eager lips, before she murmured, "Always, beloved."

She straightened, resuming her petting once more, and we settled into a peaceful silence that was broken only by the beating wings of birds taking flight around us, the rustle of leaves as animals settled in the surrounding foliage, and my sweet girl and I humming little tunes to each other as she massaged my head and I lay on the pillow of her thigh. It was the epitome of serenity, just as it had been every other time we'd ventured forth to this place. It seemed blasphemous to disturb such quietude, but if she was allowed to wax nostalgic, then so, too, was I.

"Do you remember the _first_ time we came here?"

There was no guarantee she'd heard my softly-uttered, playful words, and her lack of response seemed to support that thought, but then she answered with a throaty chuckle.

"You were so nervously adorable that day."

"I fell in love with you that day – the way you blushed at everything I said."

"I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you after that day – only if you didn't snatch yourself bald pulling on your hair, though."

We both laughed because I really had been anxious to the point of ripping my hair out. I'd just wanted everything to be perfect for our first official date, but I had still been in such shock that she'd even agreed to go out with me that I second guessed everything all day long. Would she want to be alone with me for so long? Would she be offended that we didn't do something more public? What if she didn't like the picnic I'd packed for us? Would she allow me to kiss her?

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For letting me kiss you that day. For kissing me back. For welcoming my kisses every day since then."

Before I had the chance to register the action, her lips had swooped down to cover and devour mine, my hand coming up to tangle in her tresses and anchor her to me for as long as she would allow. Nothing beyond our feverish kiss, dancing tongues, and mingling breaths mattered in that moment; nothing else existed. All too soon, we slowed to chaste nibbles, innocent licks, and simple pecks to swollen and sensitive lips.

"It was my pleasure," she whispered, her flesh dancing over mine before she pulled back, her nimble digits diving back into my hair.

I laced my fingers together over my chest, content in this little slice of utopia we'd managed to carve for ourselves despite the furor of the world around us. Maybe I had drifted off to sleep and was dreaming, I wasn't certain, but the sound of muffled, urgent voices filled my head with violent flashes of activity. I heard myself whimpering and was confused by my inability to break free of the sudden harshness ensnaring me, but Bella brought me back to reality; she always grounded me and served as the center of gravity and balance for my universe.

"Edward?"

I didn't need to open my eyes to know that I was back in the present, back where I belonged, or to know that the sole purpose for my existence needed me to calm whatever storm had been assaulting her while I agonized in slumber.

"What is it, my love?"

"Do you … you don't think they'll be able to find us here, do you?"

I wanted to trample the fear blanketing her words, but first I needed to know of whom she spoke. "Who, love?"

"Everyone … anyone … the world."

"They never have before, sweetheart. We're safe here."

"I'm scared, Edward."

"Of what, baby?"

"What has to happen next."

She sounded sad, fragile, small, vulnerable … defeated … and I wanted to erase all her doubts, reassure her that there was nothing to fear. Yes, the future that loomed on the horizon for us was frightening, but there was nothing and no one that could stop us so long as we had each other. Besides, we were about to embark upon a new chapter in our lives; it was supposed to be scary. But the challenges facing us beyond this point would only make us stronger, draw us closer, and bind us together forever.

I couldn't bear to see her crushed, so I kept my lids sealed tightly. Still craving a heightened connection with her, however, I brought her hand that had been toying with the stubble along my jaw over to my lips, brushing over each knuckle, nipping each fingertip, pressing a long, lingering kiss to the center of her palm. "We already discussed this, baby. It's going to be me and you, right up until the end, together … forever."

"Forever?"

"Yes. You are my forever, Bella. Wherever you go in this world, I will follow you," I murmured into her hand before finally opening my eyes.

I was instantly transfixed by the sight of her looming over me. The sun was setting, and it struck the back of her head so that she was bathed in its glowing rays, a luminous halo of blinding light encircling her head. I couldn't make out her features clearly, but I knew that if I reached out and traced my fingers over the luscious lips I had tasted countless times before, I would find her smiling. My hand acted of its own accord, determined to prove my theory, and it did. Her mouth was turned up at each corner, the grin I fell in love with the first time I'd ever seen her was in full bloom across her beautiful face.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," I sang.

"You make me happy when skies are gray," she lyrically answered.

"You'll never know just how much I love you."

"Please don't take my sunshine away." A frigid chill snaked its way up my spine and washed over me, leaving me shivering and covered in goose bumps as she leaned down to press a kiss to my lips and whisper, "It's time to take you home, beloved mine."

"I'll go wherever you lead, my love."

As we stood, I couldn't help stealing one more kiss from her. She immediately melted into me, deepening the kiss and filling me with warmth, lassitude, and love unlike any I had ever known before. I never wanted it to end, but I reluctantly pulled back, resting my forehead on hers and whispering, "Let's go home."

_~YAMS~_

**Carlisle POV**

I stepped wearily off the elevator, scrubbing my hands harshly up and down my face. I had never minded the turns I'd taken in the ICU, had always just looked at it as part of my job as a general surgeon. Sometimes patients ended up here, but they would move on – one way or another – and I would, again, find myself spread between floors and departments doing what I needed in order to save whatever life was laid before me. But now I loathed the sight of these walls, was revolted by the stench blasting through the symmetrically placed vents overhead. I was weary of coming here.

For thirty fucking days straight, this had been the only floor of the hospital I'd been to, and I was sick of it. I was needed here, though, and so here I would stay whether I would rather be somewhere else or not. I stopped, dead in my tracks, a strangling remorse for even _wanting_ to take a break from my duties here rising up to choke me. What kind of man would dream of taking time for himself, of spending the afternoon snuggling with his wife, of sleeping in his own bed when–

"Doctor Cullen!" Heidi, the morning charge nurse, came running up the hall, yelling my name. She stopped in front of me, pausing only long enough to catch her breath, before dazzling me with the biggest smile I had ever seen, grabbing my arm in a death grip, and exclaiming, "He's moving!"

I was momentarily stunned stupid, unable to do anything but stare with blurry eyes at nothing in particular, blink rapidly, and ask, "What?" over and over.

"_Carlisle_," she snapped at and shook me, causing me to finally refocus on her beaming face. "You need to _go_, Carlisle. He's _moving_."

I hoped I didn't shove her too hard as I unceremoniously pushed past her and raced down the hall to the same room I'd made myself a prisoner of for the last month. Skidding to a halt in the doorway, I took in the flurry of activity before me as three nurses busied themselves around the man in the bed, taking his vitals, checking the monitors, and administering medications via the catheter in his IV, all while his fingers, and even once his entire left arm, twitched and spasmed. I tore my eyes away from the wondrous sight before me to see that Doctor Whitlock, head of Neurology, was there, typing away in the patient's file on the in-room computer. He finished up his notes, logged out, and turned, a genuine smile lighting his features for the first time in longer than I cared to recall.

"Ah, Carlisle," he greeted as he walked toward me. "As you can see, we've got some movement today. I've been having the nurses' station call you for the last ten minutes."

I felt around my waist for the phone that was always clipped there, but was coming up empty. "I must have left it at home when I went to shower and change," I stupidly and numbly replied.

His eyes filled with sympathy for my evident awkwardness before his grin once again made their blue depths sparkle with joy. "No matter; you're here now, and it looks like we've got some solid brainwave activity to go with all this movement. Here, let me show you."

We were heading back over to the computer station, but stopped and swung in the direction of the wall of monitors above and beside the patient when they started beeping like mad. Doctor Whitlock pushed me aside none-too-gently and rushed to the man's bedside, but I couldn't hear what orders he gave to the one remaining nurse because in that very same instance, I was arrested by a sound I hadn't heard in four long weeks – raspy and disjointed though it was – and I reveled in the euphoria induced by my son's voice.

"You … forever … Bella …"

A loud, sobbing gasp from the corner behind me had my entire body whipping around to locate the source. For the first time since entering Edward's room, I found my wife. I quickly went to Esme, folding her in my arms and rocking her back and forth, offering what little comfort I could and attempting to infuse her with the hope that had sprung to life within me. She was just as exhausted as I was, not having left our son for any longer than was absolutely necessary since he had been brought in here after surgery four weeks ago. The only time either of us had left the hospital for any longer than a couple of hours had been the day, just over three weeks ago, that we had helped Charlie and Renee Swan lay their daughter – and Edward's longtime girlfriend – Isabella, to rest.

The night all of our worlds had exploded into mayhem had been the night of their high school graduation, and the pair had been out celebrating. I knew Edward and Bella had been invited to several parties that evening, but I also knew that they had no intention of attending any of them, choosing, instead, to have a private supper in Port Angeles – I'd made the reservations at the restaurant for them myself. They'd been on their way home and were about a mile away from Bella's house when a group of their classmates, all of whom had chosen to drink at whatever party they had attended, crossed the yellow line and smashed into Edward's car head-on.

Both of Edward's legs had been broken, one of his hands mangled, and a portion of his skull shattered from where it had impacted the dashboard that had risen up to crush him. The Jaws of Life had been needed to cut him from the vehicle; he'd been pinned in so tightly. Isabella had died on impact they said. The paramedics assured us that she had never felt the large chunk of metal that sliced her in half due to her neck having snapped from the force of the collision, and I prayed that was true. No one in the other vehicle was injured beyond some cuts, bruises, and one broken arm. I still hadn't decided how I felt about that, and I didn't think I _would_ know for a very long time.

"Where … you go … will follow … you."

The monitor attached to the leads coming off of Edward's head were going crazy again – or still, I didn't know how long I'd been lost in remembrance – and his heart rate was accelerating beyond belief. I could see his eyes behind his lids twitching frantically, but just as suddenly as they had begun going haywire, everything quieted back down to normal. We all gasped – Doctor Whitlock even jumped back from the bed with a squeak – when Edward's eyelids shot open and stayed that way. He was staring up at something only his glassy eyes could focus on, and I watched in shock as his undamaged hand reached up as if he were touching whatever it was he saw.

I couldn't tear my painfully wide gaze away from the wonderment before me. I didn't want to. We'd waited too long to hear his voice, see his eyes, feel his presence among us again, and I wasn't going to sacrifice a second of what I was certain were his final moments. I wasn't going to miss his farewell just because I couldn't – or wouldn't – accept this altered reality.

Despite having seen this same behavior in many patients, I hadn't wanted to acknowledge what I knew in my heart was happening, hadn't wanted to be a parent who has to watch their child take their final breaths. Being forced into that unsolicited role ignited some of that burning rage I had been so reluctant to embrace previously. It coursed through me in blinding bursts of barely controlled electricity, sizzling in my veins and boiling in my brain almost obliterating the stunning beauty of the miracle transpiring in the hospital bed. No, it wasn't the answer to our prayers that we had wanted, but it was soul-searing in its intensity all the same.

Whereas Edward's voice had been hoarse from disuse when he had spoken moments before, his tone was now clear and dulcet as he sang.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine."

"Carlisle, no," Esme wailed beside me, having just figured out what was going on.

"You'll never know just how much I love you," Edward sang out again, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a slight, lop-sided grin as his eyes continued to stare fixedly at some undefined point above him.

No, not undefined. I knew exactly what he was seeing, what he was hearing. Bella had come to take him home with her, where he was always the happiest and most content, and I could almost hear her angelic voice as she sang the final line of the little tune that was their way of telling one another how much they loved each other.

"I'll go wherever you lead, my love."

Esme dropped to the floor like a stone, wailing and clutching at me, begging me to make it stop, to change what was happening, but I knew I couldn't. All I could do was hold my sobbing wife and allow my own silent tears to soak into her hair. I could only watch, helplessly, as Edward whispered "Let's go home" seconds before his arm fell limply to the bed, the brainwave monitors went silent, and his heart monitor fell into a single flat line and emitted an unending, high-pitched tone. He would now be forever with his sunshine, but ours … ours was gone forever.


End file.
